


Grinding Junkies (a.k.a. In Which Dirk is a Little Shit)

by Pandamerium



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Clothing Kink, Grinding, Lingerie, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:37:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandamerium/pseuds/Pandamerium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk can be a little bit of a shit. There are certain things he does that gets Bro to the edge, but when it finally comes within Bro's reach, he can't reach out and take what he wants. So to speak, anyway. But he does have a thing for Dirk's grinding, and would like more of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grinding Junkies (a.k.a. In Which Dirk is a Little Shit)

**Author's Note:**

> This was a long overdue fic for my girl, Moose. I hope it’s good enough that she’ll forgive me xD I was listening to Shiny Toy Guns and Birthday Massacre while writing this, so it might not be as sexy as I had hoped.
> 
> She also drew fanart for it here: http://monsieurmoose.tumblr.com/post/24596602559/bro-bit-his-lip-as-dirk-placed-his-bare-hands-on

Dirk Strider can be a bit of a shit.

No, this isn’t up for argument, debate, or any form of disagreement; it is a proven FACT that Dirk can be a little shit. What, there’s no evidence for this fact? It’s completely biased and therefore a truth, something subjective, and not proven fact?

Well fuck you, let’s break it down, then.

Dirk tended to be a little shit for a variety of reasons.

The biggest reason was that, apparently, video-tapping himself and leaving copies around was one of his utmost favourite things to do. It drove Bro fucking  _mad._  The content of the videos always varied, but it followed a strict schedule based on the day of the week. Or when special occasions came up.

For example, Mondays were always Puppet Play, because it was the first working day of the week and would otherwise suck without one of their favourite shared kinks to indulge in. In this type of video, Dirk would place himself in multiple scenarios; one of them included animatronic strings that were attached to his limbs, in which he coded in a different program with each new tape (he always made sure the machine was off-screen, because it was such a turn-off to both of them). He coded them in a way that reflected Bro’s thinking in how he understood puppets, how each individual wire controlled a certain movement. His legs would shift and look as if they were going to spread in full view of the camera, but then the coding left it as a tease and instead made Dirk’s hands move over his torso and up his thighs. Occasionally, he showed some resistance to those animated strings, especially when his erection was a very prominent feature in the film, and the look of fuck-everything-I-want-to-touch-myself-fuck-fuckfuckfuck went ignored by the machine’s program, and sometimes Dirk was left desperate and wanton right on camera, and the looks he expressed to the camera went straight to Bro’s dick every single time.

Other times, Dirk wasn’t as creative (or just lazy) and just resorted to smuppets and basic voyeurism. This generally happened when Mondays were slow or boring. It was also easier to condense such sexual gratification down into a multimedia message for Bro to view on his cellphone on break.

Yeah, you can probably already pull together how Dirk was being a little shit.

And while we’re at it, Thursdays were Lingerie Day, if just to make an ironic play on “thigh high Thursday” that people on the internet were obsessed over. Except Dirk didn’t . Dirk knew how much it turned Bro on to be dressed in a garter-belt and stockings, and maybe even a corset. One time, Dirk went all out and pulled together an outfit that would’ve made  _Repo_ ’s Amber Sweet jealous. Dirk was meticulous, and even more so with Lingerie Days, because he knew it was one of Bro’s favourite kinks. He made sure to record each sway of his hips, the way the formless straps hanging from his waist moved with his body. He made sure to show how the fishnet stockings wound up his legs and thighs, and how his five-inch black heels added a divine elegance the second he turned his body and took a step to the side. He made sure the camera caught the way his fingers slid in and out of gaps in his corset, how they idled on the strings, and how they wandered down his sides and pointedly skipped where a bulge would be forming in his black satin panties.

The point is, Dirk got his rocks off to leaving all these sexy video records of himself doing various things, putting them in places where he  _knew_  Bro would find them. And to put the icing on the cake, he left  _little notes_  with them, too. He knew exactly what to say, how to say it, and just leave it in Bro’s path whenever the older Strider returned home from work. So that Bro wouldn’t resist popping a tape into the VCR or slipping the SD card into his laptop and viewing it in his room.

And just to add sprinkles to this entire plot of Dirk’s,  _he denied Bro the ultimate prize_. Which basically translates to that he gets Bro all hot and bothered with his tapes, then just conks out for the night, and Bro, despite popular belief, wasn’t a dick enough to just take him in his sleep like he so desperately wanted to.

Bro didn’t exactly roll that way, because he got pretty rough (the last time, Dirk didn’t walk for two days).

But damn, did Dirk ever push him. This would go on for days, sometimes even weeks. Sometimes Bro would come home early from work, so that he would have enough time to view the tape and then get Dirk and his perfectly plush ass in bed, with a side order of Bro’s cock. But Dirk seemed to anticipate it every single time, and the tapes ended up having twice the taunting nature, and ended up being twice as long. By the time Bro told himself to stop gaping like a fish and go push Dirk up into a wall and fuck his brains out—the little shit was asleep.

And well, he had thought about skipping the tapes before; hell, he’d done that three or four times. But the gratification wasn’t the same. There was something about the way Dirk teased him that turned him on more than anything else on the internet. It wasn’t a fast build up either – it was slow, gradual, and the sequence to get him aroused was entirely planned out, methodical; it read his mind every time. To make a long explanation short, Dirk knew how to push his buttons the right way so he didn’t just cum in his pants (though that had happened once or twice).

He shouldn’t be so surprised – Dirk was him, in a way. But they were different. They had similar kinks, similar interests, and even physical appearances, but they weren’t the same person. They never really had been. Bro wouldn’t have held out on Dirk for days on end like this, hell no. Maybe Dirk had more self-control. To Bro, it didn’t really matter once his junk wanted out of his fucking jeans. None of that was the point, though.

Dirk was a little shit, cause right now, both of them were caught up in the cycle. Again.

For this round, it had been going on since Sunday. Today was Friday, and Bro had gotten off early, much to his relief. It had been a long, hard week. Not just being sexually frustrated, but because his hours were longer this week, and he ended up working late generally anyway, and he’d pulled a double today cause some shithead wanted to take his girlfriend to prom or something. Whatever.

When he arrived back at his apartment, he already knew where to look for the tape. Except he didn’t look. He wasn’t in the mood to get himself (or his dick) worked up, especially not with how exhausted he felt. He dumped his bag at the door like usual, kicked off his shoes like usual, and went to grab a drink, as usual. This time, it was a beer, not a soda, and he avoided the tape and its little orange sticky note as it lay perfectly placed on the coffee table in front of the telly. He padded to his room and shut the door; generally he closed it so it could be heard two rooms down, but today, it was quiet, as if he were trying to be silent for once. He took a swig from the beer bottle, set it on the nightstand, ignored his laptop, removed his shirt, and fell ungracefully onto the soft mattress. He hadn’t bothered with removing his shades.

He must’ve fallen asleep (and rolled over), because when he regained consciousness again, he felt a weight on his legs, and it told him that his back was against the mattress, not his side. He opened his eyes slowly, taking in the form of Dirk leaning over him, blurry as it was. He groaned and reached up with a gloved hand to rub at his tired eyes underneath his shades, knocking them slightly askew. A quick glance to the side told him that it was about eight-something at night; he’d slept only an hour or two. He felt Dirk shift and wordlessly move to sit on his legs, straddling them. He was scooting closer to his waist, too.

Bro closed his eyes and sighed. “Not in the mood, lil man.” His voice was quiet and he sounded like he’d run fifty miles without a drink of water. A small hand, calloused with tool work, stroked from his forehead to his scalp.

Bro frowned, not opening his eyes. “Seriously, kid. I’m too tired.”

There was another shift, and suddenly Dirk’s face was very close to Bro’s, his groin was pressed against the older Strider’s, and lips were on Bro’s cheek, trailing to his ear. If he had been more awake (or less tired, really), he probably would’ve indulged in this. Or pushed Dirk back a little bit so he could roll over and go back to sleep. After the week he’d had, he was too tired to do anything. Dirk and his sexy little ass could wait until tomorrow—

“Please?”

—or maybe not.

The voice was quiet, low,  _husky_. There was a desperation behind it that could almost be labeled  _criminal_. He was  _begging_  Bro, and neither of them had done anything today to warrant it. Or technically yesterday, for that matter (no, masturbation on Bro’s part didn’t count).

Bro opened his eyes again, exhaling. Sometimes Dirk would get him riled up, then jump off him, cold turkey, and leave Bro to finish himself. Dirk wasn’t just a little shit – he could be pretty cruel. But he didn’t do it often, only on bad days (though on those days, Dirk allowed Bro to come after him, pin him to the wall, and fuck him senseless).

“You didn’t watch the tape I set out for you,” Dirk’s voice cut through his thoughts; the younger Strider was leaning back, hands splayed palm-flat against Bro’s abdomen. It suddenly occurred to Bro that Dirk was shirtless, clad in only his black jeans and the orange boxers peeking out from under the waistband. “I figured if my work wasn’t worth viewing, perhaps I should be a little more proactive so you’ll be satisfied.”

Bro’s eyes flicked back up to Dirk. The kid had the decency to look a little guilty. But only a little; most of his face was drawn up in mild embarrassment. Bro bet himself twenty bucks that he’d see those bright eyes half-lidded if he reached up and removed the kid’s shades. While on that train of thought, he should probably stop calling him a ‘kid’. Dirk was seventeen. Not exactly a ‘kid’ anymore.

Besides, now that he thought about it, Dirk was offering himself. Bro had put up with almost a week of abstinence thanks to Dirk’s shenanigans, but here he was, giving Bro what he’d wanted all week. And now Bro was going to say ‘no’?

Fuck that.

He didn’t care that he was tired and his body protested, and he didn’t care that this wasn’t going to be a time where they brought out toys and put on sexy revealing clothing and teased each other beforehand. They didn’t need all that.

Bro pulled Dirk down on top of him, angling his head so he could smash their mouths together. He didn’t wait to plunge his tongue inside the warm, inviting cavern, didn’t wait to play with Dirk’s tongue. He definitely didn’t wait to run his hands down Dirk’s bare sides. The younger Strider moaned and pressed himself close to Bro, his smaller hands gripping at his shoulders as he tried to respond to the kiss. His lower body shifted, right over Bro’s waist, and he ground down.

He certainly wasn’t waiting long either.

Bro’s lips left Dirk’s, and began trailing across his jaw, to a sensitive spot behind the young blonde’s ear, then down the side of his neck. Moans were his reward, and a shift in Dirk’s hips against his, causing more friction. Bro couldn’t get very far before Dirk was throwing his weight forward, pushing him down into the mattress.

Grinding down again. And again.

Bro didn’t deny it – he had a thing for the way Dirk moved his hips. If there was one thing Dirk was really,  _really_  good at, it was grinding. Bro could get hooked on Dirk’s grinding faster than any drug. Especially if Dirk remained the little shit he was.

Bro bit his lip as Dirk placed his bare hands on his arms, anchoring himself, and pressing their groins together again. It didn’t take long for a tent to form in Bro’s pants, but neither noticed, because Bro was focusing on how good it felt to have Dirk rutting against him, and Dirk was focusing on giving Bro the pleasure he’d previously denied him – in small spurts, of course.

Bro’s hands found their path along Dirk’s thighs, holding him there as he rolled his hips up to meet Dirk’s gentle, slow-moving thrusts. Their remaining clothing was becoming a problem, because their jeans were getting tighter with each roll of their hips. Dirk was already panting, and Bro had been biting his lip for far too long. Bro’s hands moved down between them, undoing the zipper on his own pants, then Dirk’s right after.

Their grinding evolved into naked rutting against each other, pants and boxers having been discarded over the edge of the bed. Dirk was balancing himself on both hands, moving against Bro, who held both their dicks in his hand, maintaining the friction that was creating pleasure between them.

There was something different about tonight that had Bro wondering in the back of his head; normally Bro would’ve flipped Dirk over and taken him dry at this point. He thought that being exhausted was only part of it. There was something else.

_Oh._

Dirk came first – his hips jerking and his thighs spasming as he rode out it out, still keyed into the grinding motion he’d been performing earlier. Bro rolled up to meet him and it wasn’t long before he followed soon after – coating Dirk’s chest with his cum, and splattering himself as well. Dirk’s shaky arms still held him up, but Bro leaned over, bumping chests together, and kissed Dirk’s lips hard.

Dirk could be a little shit, but he made up for it in his own little way.

Now if the little shit could just shake the routine of slipping away when Bro wanted his damn cuddles, they’d be golden. 


End file.
